This morning, Little T asked me to tell her the story of when Jesus died. I was a little occupied with 3 or 4 other multi-tasking distractions, so I tapped her 5 year old sister for the job. (Little T told me a few weeks ago that Lady E had told her the story before, so there was precedence.)
Lady E happily complied:
So when Jesus died, there were these people who put nails on his wrists and his feet and put him up on a cross because he wouldn't punch his pilot.
Unfortunately, she never made it to the Resurrection part of the story because her mother was howling too loudly with laughter. The real question here, then, is: WWJF? Which Would Jesus Fly: Coach or First Class??
* * *